


Tempting the Devil

by keelhaulrose



Series: Sympathy for the Devil [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25565071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelhaulrose/pseuds/keelhaulrose
Summary: For some reason Hermione agreed to a night at Lux with Lucifer. It does not end the way either had planned.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Series: Sympathy for the Devil [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650367
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53
Collections: Hermione's Haven Bingo 2020





	Tempting the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Written for #HHBingo2020, my N3 'free space' square

She must have walked back and forth between the two doors half a dozen times, deep in debate with herself. How had she managed to get herself into this mess? How had she so completely let her guard down to agree to this? She tapped her cell phone against the heel of one hand impatiently, trying to convince herself to just make the call and end the madness. Instead she turned and knocked on the door. There was a few seconds of hope that her neighbor wasn't home, and if not she would take it as a sign and make the call, but that hope was dashed as the door quickly opened and Hermione was enveloped in a tight hug.

“Oh, Mya, I was just thinking I needed to come see how you were doing!” Ella gushed, looking excited. “What's up?”

“I find myself in a bit of a jam,” Hermione admitted. “I was invited out to a club tonight and I really don't have much in the way of club wear.”

Ella's face already registered so much excitement that Hermione would have regretted the request if Ella's smile wasn't so infectious. Without a word Ella grabbed her arm and pulled her into the room, saying, “Oh, my god, I'm so happy you came to me, I'm so excited to help you, I've been wanting to get you to go on a night out for so long, who managed to get you to agree? It's a man, isn't it, oh, I hope it is, unless you're into women, in which case I hope it's that, you're just so cute and nice but you're always at home or work. I'm rambling, aren't I?” she pushed Hermione into a chair in her bedroom and stood in front of her, nearly bouncing in her excitement.

“Just a little bit,” Hermione smiled.

“Okay, but could you tell me who got you to go out?”

Hermione took a deep breath. “Do you know that ritzy nightclub, Lux?”

Elle's eyebrow shot up. “I have heard many rumors, especially about the owner. What's his name? Something do do with the devil, isn't it?”

“Lucifer Morningstar,” she nodded. “He has been coming into the bar a few days a week to have a chat. He's been asking me to come to Lux for weeks.”

“ _You_ are going to Lux with the _owner_?” she looked surprised.

“Is that concerning?”

“Well, it's just... those rumors. I didn't think you'd be interested in that, not that I know you well enough to know if you are or not, you just seem...” she made a few gestures and bit her lips together to stop talking.

“I'm assuming this has something to do with the large number of people he's slept with.”

“Yes... sort of. I heard, through some grapevines, that he's really good at fulfilling desires, nearly any desires...”

“Oh, he's offered me those services many times. I've yet to take him up on the offer,” she replied with a chuckle.

Ella seemed to relax a little. “But you are going to Lux with him?”

“Lucifer and I are... friends I guess I'd call it. I figured friends occasionally do what each other want to do, and since that seems to be all he's capable of asking me to do...”

“Well, then we're going to make sure that you look presentable for the occasion,” she said, opening her closet.

XXXXXXX

Hermione paused at the top of the stairs and surveyed the floor of the club below. People dancing, drinking, leaning close to one another to try to talk. On the edges couples kissed and groped half-hidden in the shadows. She spotted Lucifer by the bar, surrounded by a throng of adoring people. She locked eyes with the pretty bartender she was sure was Mazikeen as she descended. Mazikeen studied her intently, as though she were sizing up a threat.

“Let me guess, something fruity? White wine?” Maze asked as Hermione made it to the bar.

“Scotch, please. On the rocks,” Hermione ordered. “Something good enough to make me stop regretting agreeing to something he asked of me.”

A smiled tugged at the corner of Mazikeen's mouth, but she quickly hid it as she made the drink. She placed it on the bar in front of Hermione, who reached into her clutch.

“Put that away, you're my guest,” Lucifer said, appearing next to her. “Whatever you want is on me.”

“Oh, so you'll pay my taxi to get out of here?” she replied as she put a $20 bill on the bar.

“You are starting with the sarcasm early tonight, aren't you? Didn't I tell you to put that away?”

“I'm not paying, I'm tipping. I might be drinking for free, but she's still working for tips,” Hermione said, handing the bill directly to Maze.

“Oh, I like her,” Maze smirked, taking the money.

Lucifer smirked, “How much do you like her?” he asked.

“Enough I might have to save her from you later,” she shot back with a smirk.

“Oh, stop. Unless you're into it, Hermione, in which case do continue,” he turned to Hermione with a playful smirk.

“Whenever you're done I'll be waiting over there,” she said, motioning towards a couple empty stools at the end of the bar.

“Oh, no, no, we're not going to hide in a corner all night,” he said, grabbing her arm to stop her.

“Actually, if you don't mind, I'd rather...”

“But the best spot is right over here,” he said, motioning to his usual table.

Hermione took one look at the booth and shook her head. “Absolutely not. I.. I can't...”

“Of course you can, it's quite comfortable...” he gave her arm a little tug.

She looked around the bar, feeling panic rising in her chest. “I need to be able to see the whole bar.”

He looked confused. “Why? You're not working.”

“I just... I can't... I'm sorry, this was a mistake,” she said, ducking around him. Her heart pounded in her ears and her feet felt detached from her body as she tried to make it up the stairs. On the third stair her foot slipped and the world went fuzzy for a moment before the pain of falling down the other two stairs hit her knee. The glass she forgot she was carrying fell to the ground and smashed, and she could feel a shard rip across the skin of her ankle. Another piece embedded in her hand as they hit the floor hard in an effort to prevent her face from slamming into the floor. For a moment she had to search her brain, trying to remember how to stand, as she realized her breath was so shallow and quick she felt her mouth going dry.

“Hermione?” Lucifer was looking at her in absolute confusion.

Hermione felt an arm wrap around her, moving her into a position to help her stand.

“Up you go, witchy woman,” Maze murmured, and Hermione barely needed any strength as the demon lifted her to her feet. “Upstairs, now, before we get too much blood on the floor,” she ordered Lucifer, who paused to pick something up from the ground before wrapping an arm around Hermione's other side to help Maze get her to the elevator. Once they got her to the penthouse they set her on the couch.

“I'll go back downstairs for the first aid kit,” Maze said, turning back towards the elevator.

“Wait,” Hermione called out to stop her. “I can fix it. I just need my clutch. I think I dropped it...”

“Right here,” Lucifer said, sitting next to her and handing her the bag. Hermione got out her wand and tended to her wounds before carefully stashing her wand back in the bag and closing her eyes.

“I'm so sorry,” she said softly.

“What happened?” Maze demanded.

“I have... a thing. In my history. If I'm in a crowd I need to be able to see all of them.”

“A thing?” Lucifer scowled. “What kind of thing?”

Hermione looked from him, to Maze, back to him. What kind of madwoman even _considered_ confessing her deepest secrets to the Devil? She searched his face for any reason to think that saying anything would be a mistake, but he looked confused and, did she dare hope, concerned for her.

“My name is Hermione, not Mya. Mya is just the latest name I've used. I'm on the run,” she said softly.

He let off a chuckle and seemed to relax. “Were you really that scared to tell me you're on the run? I'd be a hypocrite if I judged you for that, wouldn't I?”

“From who?” Maze asked, sounding skeptical.

Hermione turned to look at her. Maze was not hiding her judgment well, though Hermione could tell she was still assessing the situation. She took a deep breath before replying, “A group of wizards who want me dead.”

“I assumed they wanted you dead,” she replied harshly. “ _Why_ do they want you dead?”

“Because I am a witch, and my parents are not magical,” she replied.

“I don't understand,” Lucifer muttered.

“I don't know how long you've been up here, but do you remember anything from a magical war in England in the late 70s?”

“Those assholes with the skull and snake on their arms?” Maze asked. “I had the pleasure of working with a few of them. I don't think I could squeeze some regret out of them with an industrial juicer.”

“I remember they had a very hard time accommodating to Hell,” Lucifer nodded. “Very arrogant group. A couple of them went the same way as all sociopaths who were convinced everything they did was justified, meaning I gave them to Maze and told her to have fun.”

“Well, not all of them died. A few went to prison, a bunch bought their freedom, and a few went into hiding. A few years ago their leader came back from wherever someone with only a tiny fraction of their soul goes, and the war was back on. The short of it is we won, but a few of them escaped. We thought they would just go into hiding, probably far away, and every so often we'd catch one, but nothing really would come of it. And then I went home one day to find three of them in my sitting room. I escaped, but so did they. And after that the threatening letter started coming, the Dark Mark was put over my home several times, they killed my cat...” she paused, her head dropping. She blinked quickly to try to prevent the tears from falling and could feel Maze and Lucifer's eyes on her in rapt attention. “They killed my neighbor. The nicest old lady, always gave me a sweet when she saw me out in the neighborhood. They told me to come to them or they'd kill her. I tried to get a rescue together, but we ran out of time.” She looked up, but couldn't bring herself to look at either of their faces. Instead she closed her eyes and finally lost the battle to keep her tears from falling. “It should have been me,” she finished in a choked voice.

“It absolutely should _not_ have been,” Lucifer's outraged voice sounded darker, almost dangerous. “What could you have possibly done to deserve the way you were treated?”

“I was born a witch, and my parents are non magical. To that group that means I stole magic and should be killed for it. They killed many like me already, but I'm the prize now.”

“ _What_?” Maze shouted so loudly Lucifer and Hermione looked over at her in surprise. “This needs to be punished,” she snapped, staring at Lucifer.

Hermione looked over at Lucifer, and nearly recoiled in fear. His handsome face was still there, but there was a look of intrigue and excitement, and his eyes had an unmistakable flash of red in them. He looked down at her, and his face immediately calmed and settled back into a look of concern.

“Perhaps a discussion left for another time,” he said, shooting a pointed glance at Maze. A wicked smile flashed across her face before she went to the bar, got a bottle and a couple glasses, and put it on the table by Lucifer.

“I'll go make sure things are okay downstairs,” she said, nodding to Hermione.

“I'm so sorry,” Hermione repeated. “I didn't mean to wreck the evening.”

“Well, it's still early,” he smiled. “I'm sure we can find something fun to do around here.”

“Is this one of those situations where you're going to make me endure an uncomfortable amount of sexual harassment that culminates in me promising to discover which hexes work on the devil, is it?” she raised an eyebrow, though a smile played on her lips.

“Well, when you put it like that,” he looked affronted but there was a sparkle in his eye.

“Do you mind?” she asked, motioning towards his piano.

“You play?” he asked, surprised, though he motioned for her to go ahead.

“Yes,” she said, standing and walking to the bench. She sat down and ran her fingers over the keys. “I've only played the keyboard since I went on the run, they're a lot easier to move. Even with magic just moving a piano is enough to send it out of tune. It's not quite the same.” She played a few notes, closing her eyes and savoring the sound of a real piano after so long without one.

“How long have you been playing?” he asked, watching her in rapt interest.

“Since I was four. Mum played and I loved to listen to her. She liked the classics,” she added, playing the first few bars of 'Für Elise'. “Though she occasionally liked something a little more modern,” she continued, switching seamlessly to the intro to 'Imagine' _._ “Mum put a piano in the front room of their dental practice. I would come over and practice for Beatrice, she worked the front desk. She liked hymns, and holiday music during that season. She always had a good word for me, though sometimes she preferred just to listen. I liked those times the best, I got to pick what I played.”

He stood and walked to the piano, and she moved over to let him sit next to her. “What do you like to play?” he asked.

“I guess it depends on my mood,” she replied. “When I was on the run I would often go to places where I could listen to other people playing. I liked hearing the local influence. I tried to pick some of it up each time. It was a mix of traditional songs, sometimes classical, in Toronto there was this beautiful woman who would play a lot of rock songs, and she put so much heart into it I went there as often as I could just to hear her play. If I stayed in one place for a while I'd often pick up on the local flair and try it for myself. I'd hear a song and want to know it, and would keep myself occupied learning it. Being on the run isn't exactly conducive to having deep friendships, so the keys were my friends in a lot of places.”

“Could you play something for me?” he asked.

She studied him for a long moment.

“You could just say no,” he said when the silence became unbearable.

“It's not that,” she shook her head. “You are my first audience in many years. If I'm going to play for an audience, I really should make the song somewhat meaningful.”

“You're not going to play 'Sympathy for the Devil' are you?” he asked.

“Not a chance. I just thought of one that the girl in Toronto played a few times that stuck with me,” she said, looking into his eyes for a long moment before turning towards the keys. She took her time, making sure she was positioned correctly, and took a deep breath before she started to play.

It took him a few measures to recognize the song as 'The Unforgiven II', but for a moment what she was playing didn't matter. He found her so captivating as she played, the way her eyes went a thousand miles away as her fingers moved as if she had played the song a thousand times. Maybe she had. The song really did seem out of character for her, but then again, what was her character? Was she the same person he thought he knew? Or was Mya just another front, and Hermione a whole different person? He suddenly felt compelled to know, but why was he feeling such a compulsion? And then the song reached a crescendo, and he was brought back in. He tried to remember the lyrics, remember what it was about, maybe then he could know why this was her choice. When she finished he reached towards her hand, wanting her to play it again, to not stop playing, until he could figure her out.

She looked down at his hand, then up at him. Without warning she moved forward, catching his lips with hers for just a second.

“Thank you,” she whispered, but then she stood up and left without another word.

And he stayed here all night, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.


End file.
